Pebbles in my pocket

Living on thoughts,
Never bygones,
Can't bid adieu,
To our country home.

Pebbles in my pocket,
Invisibly etched.
They'll lay the foundation,
Someday, when I'll rest.

Me & Mirrors

A short Essay (needs major reconstructional surgery, heavy headed, cluttered attempt for now)

Inquisitively, while growing up I often peered into those greasy, dusty mirrors. They had a habit of conjuring themselves up around me, whenever they pleased, which by some queer coincidence was when I was quite displeased.

I walked along engrossed in the view, mostly shocked by the persistent mindless impositions to enforce order which was always losing to the entropic nature of this world & then later pleased because I could rear-view this unnatural practise, tossing it out in my stride. Sidestepping unsuccessfully since more often than not I was baffled by the irrational behaviour displayed by selfish people who turned selfless for purely selfish reasons. Almost stopping each time to shock-jolt those nose-bridges, wheeezing maybe a foot or so atop a well-tailored suit which selflessly spoke from their high perches, to scrounging people about values, they meant ‘Vail’ Use.

Yes whenever I chanced upon their glittering giving nature, I merrily arranged them into a nice kaleidoscope, which made me see myriad colours, I’d call that love for the lack of any better word, but since bad luck is more ubiquitous than good luck I was left marooned & irked by the inverted images of the institutions which held them flocked together. They did so wonderfully well by keeping them apart from their own self & what is most dear to them. Can’t put a finger to when, but I got used to seeing the world through those mirrors.  

Maybe all this happened since I was too obsessed with self from as long as I can remember, and then something mirroring it, coupling the effect, was something of a natural progression, since it amplified who I think I was or I am.

Before I could sign off this note, I thought that a mirror should reflect what you are, but then whenever someone has held out that mirror for me it has always shown me what I am not. I stop & then I walk.

It smelled of you

A vertical line appeared, as a hand drew,
While I gaped on, perplexed, it grew,
Splitting me, this coupling, it felt so blue.
Soon after, a soothing breeze, on my face, it blew,
Must have kissed & touched,  since it smelled of you.

Lady, Water & Waterfall - Pencil, Ink, Pen

गुफ्तगू

A Poem that i wrote sometime back:

दिमाग की दिल से जब-जब हुई गुफ्तगू,

शातिर ने उपजाई तहरीरें, बाटने की रूह.

हमेशा ही कहा सब्र करो, वक़्त ने अभी आना है,

हवा का रुख समझो, न किसी का ठौर, न ठिकाना है.

कमज़ोर, गर दिल होता, रुक जाता इस फ़साने मे,

उसको वक़्त का न इल्म था, उन लम्हों के पैमाने मे.

वोह निगाहें मिलाकर, पीता गया और जीता गया,

जेहन का वजूद, सिमटा, बीता और फिर ग़ुम हो गया.

चुप्पी थी, सन्नाटा नहीं,

सफ़ेद, सुगन्धित शान्ति, एक अंगड़ाई,

हम जले, मै था ही नहीं,

पानी की बूँदें, गिर-गिर, मुस्कुराईं.

Perfect World

There is an equal probability of a world where the rarest incidence is not the most sought after moment. To be able to be with nature, such a world is perfect.

Litany of observation & an individual's reality

I was thinking about the litany of observation & an individual’s reality. While the lone eye, dolefully watches the shifting dunes of the mass phantasm, it captures just enough vivid images of the transition, as distinct memorized frames, often recalled for revalidating an ingenious cohesive structure, which makes sense of an individuals life. What sense would it otherwise make after all? The pool of perceptual reality gives it its diversity & maybe strength. Yet, power is to people who string the aspirations of individuals, which are completely anti-reality. This must be a world where no one likes what one is, or what one has. I damn these stringers who draw people with a structured hypnosis of how to progress in life. Gosh they have already sold almost about 6.7 billion copies. My questions to you:

A) Does looping experiences restrict you to experiment with life?

B) Why create your reality and build on it if you anyways want to shun it?

C) Do you damn the stringers too?